


broken glass

by thumbsforammo



Category: Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Angst, Complete, Death, Hospital, Illnesses, One-Shot, Sad, Tour Fic, josh dun - Freeform, twenty one pilots - Freeform, tyler joseph - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-09
Updated: 2019-01-09
Packaged: 2019-10-06 23:47:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17354951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thumbsforammo/pseuds/thumbsforammo
Summary: josh is sick. tyler is broken.





	broken glass

**Author's Note:**

> this is a fairly old one-shot written back in 2017 that i found in my drafts. i’m not super fond of it and i do think this shows how much i’ve improved at writing over the last year and a half, but i remember being really proud of this at the time that i wrote it so i thought why not share it here. 
> 
> i had a song connected to it: Free to Breathe by Cold War Kids  
> this song is so so good i really recommend it.
> 
> this was originally written in all lower case and i plan on keeping it that way, at least for the time being. i hope you enjoy this story nonetheless!!

the fluorescent lights cast a harsh gleam on everything their light touches. the pasty white walls give the whole building an insincere feeling. doctors and nurses pass by, their faces bearing deceitfully caring and sympathetic expressions. it's not their best friend who's unconscious in the next room over, so what do they know? they see stuff like this everyday, how is this particular situation any different or more disheartening than the last?

the stridulous sound of the cheap plastic chair scraping on the floor echoes throughout the near-empty hall, accompanied with the occasional tap tap tap of a doctor's stark shoes as they rush from one room to the next, fingers wildly scribbling away at a clipboard or frantically typing on their phone.

a door slams open next to where tyler's sat, fiddling with the hem of his shirt and trying to ignore his prying thoughts. the sudden loud noise makes him jump and he looks up in confusion as a woman stomps out, talking furiously into the phone held to her ear. when she sees tyler sitting alone in the empty hallway, she lowers her voice several octaves until tyler can't make out what she's saying. even so, he watches her lips curiously, desperate to busy his mind. he had never really tried reading lips, why not start now?

after a few minutes of probably socially unacceptable staring and squinting, the woman ends her call with an angry huff. tyler takes this as the moment to speak, no one has uttered a thing to him since the doctor left.

"what's got you so peeved?"

the woman startles and spins around, her eyes surprised when they meet with tyler's.

"my mom won't come to the hospital even though it's her daughter that's hurt. she really pisses me off sometimes. this isn't the first time she's done this, you know," the woman says, heaving a heavy sigh.

"i wouldn't know," tyler responds, sarcasm his only defense.

"when i had my son, she didn't show up until i was about to leave the hospital, claiming she was busy with work. what work could be more important than the birth of her grandson?" the woman looks to tyler, as if waiting for an answer to her obviously rhetorical question.

tyler just shrugs, never having had a very high skill level in social interaction.

"i don't know why i'm even confiding in a total stranger but hey, aren't hospitals where no one judges each other? we're all going through some form of shit right?"

"yeah, some form of shit." tyler looks down at his hands and wiggles his thumbs around distractedly.

"so," the woman seats herself on the floor next to tyler, her legs crossed and arms resting on the edge of the chair, "what's brought you to this lovely happy place?"

tyler pauses his thumb wiggling. what should he say, that his best friend is sick? sick doesn't sound like quite the right word, what josh is is worse than just sick. when tyler thinks of sick he thinks of a cold, or maybe even the flu, but not this. definitely not this.

"my friend is," he hesitates, "ill." 

ill. that'll have to do.

the woman smacks her lips as a form of showing sympathy and pats his knee. she frowns almost comically.

"i'm sorry to hear that."

"what happened to your sister?" tyler asks, desperate to change the subject. these thoughts plague him enough anyway.

"she fell off her roof and broke her foot. she loves to look at the clouds. no matter how many times i tell her not to go up there, she still does. i swear, every time i visit her, there she is, watching the clouds like nobody's business. she's lucky i happened to be returning a set of plates to her when this," she juts her thumb in the direction of the room she just came out of, "happened. i've been fighting the urge to say 'i told you so' for the past two hours." she chuckles half-heartedly and tyler returns the gesture. even if it's forced, it's still nice to laugh.

a gaggle of nurses approach and, thinking their rushing into josh's room, tyler's heart plummets to his shoes. instead they disappear into the next room over and tyler releases the breath he didn't know he was holding once the door closes behind them.

"you're worried about your friend, huh?" the woman asks, real sympathy filling her eyes this time.

tyler nods, unable to speak as his throat clenches shut. any words he once had to describe how he feels have long since been ripped from his lungs by unseen hands, those same hands hacking at his brain and picking at his heart day and night. these hands and fingers belong to a much larger being, one that had been at the back of tyler's mind for a long, long time and had only disappeared when josh had shown up. had only returned when he had all but left.

 

—

 

the woman has been providing tyler with the awful hospital coffee for the past half hour. she insists that's what he needs, when tyler's only thought is that he needs sleep. or at least something to stop whatever this nightmare is. but too unfortunately kind to say no and too unfortunately stubborn to let the woman beat him at his own game of drinking cup after cup of the scalding beverage, tyler fights off the sleep that had been his savior for however long he had been here and gulps down the last of the liquid from his fourth drink.

how long had it been, really? days? weeks? it feels like just yesterday that they were standing in front of the roaring crowds. it feels like just yesterday that josh had suddenly collapsed as they walked off-stage. he had claimed to not be feeling well a few weeks before, but had told tyler not to worry, he's probably just tired from all these late nights, maybe even getting the flu, nothing to be too worried about.

but as he grew more and more exhausted, paler and paler, thinner and thinner, his body finally gave in. the doctors say his mind just won't quit, if only his body would follow suit.

 

—

 

as the clock on tyler's phone reads six am, the woman finally leaves, carting her sister away in a wheelchair whose foot is wrapped in a purple cast and propped up high. the sister's name was elaine, the woman's amber.

the faint squeak of the rickety wheelchair fades as the two approach the elevator, leaving the hospital until elaine inevitably falls off her roof again.

many people come and go around tyler, but none as kind as amber. a few even give tyler dirty looks as they pass, as if his tragedy is more depressing than theirs, taking away from their awful sense of glory and importance.

the doctors question him frequently about why he stays in the hall, most would stay in the room, you see. most wouldn't find themselves incapable of looking at josh's shrunken form spread on the bland bed in the bland room in the bland building. most wouldn't drag the red plastic chair from the room, unaware and uncaring of how bothersome it may be.

after he explains it over and over again and is practically in tears, the doctors lay off, leaving the somber boy alone with his crossed arms and quivering lip.

 

—

 

friends and family come and go, but it seems that none are as loyal as tyler. when company is present, tyler is either unintentionally forced to stay in the room or left alone in the hallway, excluded from any conversation or condoling that may take place.

when he is dragged into the room by social norms, the small space usually becomes overwhelmingly filled with sniffling and tear-filled remarks. often times whole tissue boxes are almost magically produced from purses and bags and passed around the room. tyler doesn't need them then, he's supposed to be the strong one, right? it isn't until they all clear out do the tears fall freely, allowed to leave their prison that is held within his eyes. usually he would leave the room of lost hope, but occasionally he would stay, staring at what's left of his best friend, regularly blaming himself for not seeing the signs sooner and not bringing him into the hospital when his gut told him to. if only he had done that, maybe things would be different. if only.

 

—

 

the doctors finally convince him to leave the hospital, even if for only a moment. the heavy doors squeak as he lets himself out, the brisk autumn air flowing in with great force as the wind drives it. trees surround the hospital and their leaves fall off at an alarming rate. they flutter around tyler, who is entranced by their beauty. each leaf its own shade of green, red, yellow, and orange as if painted by a hand drastically different than the ones who torment tyler's every waking thought.

he shivers in the cold breeze, pulling his thin shirt tighter around himself, wishing for a cup of the hot coffee amber seemed to just pull out of her back pocket. wishing for someone to lean against and to block out his frightful thoughts. wishing for almost any other circumstance to be in awe of nature's beauty.

 

—

 

tyler's mother brings in a bag of what she claims to be "necessities". inside is a pack of gum, a phone charger, twenty bucks for the vending machine, and practically a whole turkey dinner. thanksgiving had come and gone without a second thought in this dismal place.

down at the bottom, tyler spots a discarded paper. he fishes it out and unfurls it, letting the bright lights glare off of it. it's a photo booth strip, taken during a fair in minnesota. they had been touring and stopped by, drawn in by the colorful lights and decadent smell of popcorn and cotton candy.

he closes his eyes and relishes in the memory for a moment before looking back down at the photo strip, each picture telling a different story. the first three involve the whole crew desperately trying to cram into the tiny photo booth. after that near impossible task, they filter out, the last picture of just josh and tyler. they both look exceptionally happy, their hopes soaring and dreams coming true before their very eyes. josh's almond eyes crinkled and tyler's teeth peeking through his lips as they both smile giddily, pinching each other's cheeks.

that is a time now lost, a feeling now cast away into the deep black waters of hopelessness. tyler doesn't want to think about anything else, for he knows that when he does, the happy memory will shatter like pieces of broken glass. when he's eventually forced to face the real world again, he immediately shoves the photo strip into his pocket, not wanting to be painfully reminded of happier times once more.

he feels a tap on his shoulder and turns to face a doctor, her eyes bleak and lips pressed together in a firm line.

"you're tyler joseph, correct?" she asks, tapping on her clipboard.

"y-yes," tyler replies shakily, gripping the hem of his shirt tightly.

"i'm here to inform you that your friend josh will most likely not make it through the rest of the night. i recommend spending as much time as you can with him until then. i'm sorry."

the world starts spinning, lights flickering above tyler and the figure standing before him blurring in and out of focus. the chair beneath him feels as though it is made of needles and tyler jumps up, startling the doctor slightly. his lower jaw trembles as he looks at the door to josh's room. the sound of ripping fabric snaps him out of his trance and he looks down to see that he's torn his shirt slightly at the hem.

the doctor looks unsure of what to do, eventually leaving all together when tyler doesn't move or speak for a few minutes. when he looks back up, there's a nurse standing where the doctor was, looking at tyler worriedly.

"sir? would you like to be alone with him or would you like me to accompany you?" he asks, shifting slightly as if his feet are hurting him.

tyler speaks after a moment, "i'd like to be alone please."

"i understand. is there anyone you'd like me to call, or would you like to call them yourselves?"

"call his family, please." tyler is unsure if he can be the one to tell them that their son is dying as they speak.

the nurse nods and leaves tyler to enter the room alone. the door squeaks slightly as tyler opens it and he flinches, worried it will wake josh, even if that's not entirely possible.

josh is lying very still on the white bed, unconscious just as he had been since tyler had sat in the ambulance with him, being jostled to and fro as he anxiously listened in on the paramedics' conversation.

he's still too pale, every feature sunken in, and it hurts tyler to look at him. his heart pangs with every beep of the heart monitor, prepared for it to be the last. he staggers over to the bedside and grasps josh's bony hand. it's much too cold and tyler desperately tries to warm it, rubbing his thumb across the callused knuckles. he stands like this for several minutes, unable to bring himself to walk away, afraid that when he does it'll all be over.

it's only when his legs start to shake so hard he's afraid he will collapse that he leaves, walking across the room and falling onto one of the remaining chairs, head in his hands. he heaves a sigh and rubs his face, bringing his bloodshot eyes back to the all but empty bed.

a few hours pass, each second of them filled with a dreadful sort of anticipation, when tyler feels something deep in his gut, deep in his chest. he slowly rises from the chair, back and shoulders stiff from slumping over for so long. josh's family had arrived long ago and they watch tyler curiously as he steps over to the base of the bed, face void of any emotion, tear filled eyes the only thing betraying what he feels. he stands still, muscles taut and breathing shallow, staring at josh, eyes wide, and it isn't until the heart monitor gives one last feeble beep and draws flat do they understand. several sobs erupt from around the room and many doctors and nurses rush in, pushing past tyler to get to josh. fresh tears slip down tyler's face but not a sound comes from his shut lips as the hospital staff become a blur of noise and motion around him.

a light pops above them, flickering out for the last time and tyler feels it then, the devilish hands. their slender fingers wrap around his heart, dig into his brain.

he knows it then, he's finally broken.


End file.
